


Enchanted

by unbroken_halo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Rough Trade
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-04-17 08:21:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14184828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unbroken_halo/pseuds/unbroken_halo
Summary: When a curse begins to take over her life and magic, Hermione initiates an old spell found in an ancient book and hides away from the world.  It isn't until a familiar face intrudes on her privacy, that she begins to hope again.Dissatisfied with the direction of his life and work, Harry takes a sabbatical looking to find a new path. He ambles through the Forest of Dean, stumbling upon a castle hidden in plain sight with heavy, but familiar spells. Pushing through the magical safeguards, Harry finds what was missing from his world.





	1. The Fog

**Author's Note:**

> This story was part of the April challenge on Rough Trade. It is unbeta-ed at this time and sporadically updated; it is not abandoned. Reader beware. Chapter titles are songs by Maroon 5 and make up the rough soundtrack I use for writing this story.

Chapter One: The Fog

Harry sank down into the chair and eyed the minister across the desk. Kingsley Shacklebolt continued to sign parchments, moving the papers to his left after the quill scratched across the surface with his signature. Each parchment turned bright red, verifying his identity before adding the seal of the minister. The document burned a dazzling white then popped away from his desk. Harry watched both Kingsley and the magic work, only slightly irritated to be called to this place and then essentially ignored. One wasn't often summoned to the upper reaches of the government, but he also figured that had more to do with who he was than anything else. Kingsley signed five more papers before setting his quill down and looking at Harry. 

"How are you doing, Harry?" He asked as he leaned back in the big, black desk chair.

"Err..." Harry shrugged. "All right, I suppose, and you?"

"Good. Thanks for asking." Kingsley grinned. "You're wondering why you are here and if I've gone round the twist?"

Harry blinked at him and straightened in his chair. "I…" he paused contemplating his answer for a moment as he felt Kingsley's gaze study him. "Well, yes."

"Feeling a bit out of sorts?" Kingsley sat up, folded his hands together and rested them on top of his desk, leaning forward toward Harry. 

Bewildered, Harry just stared at Kingsley for several minutes. "I suppose that could be true. How-- why do you know?"

Kingsley snorted. "I remember what it was like being an Auror before my life became truly complicated by being elected."

Harry chuckled. "Do tell, Minister."

"What I remember or how I know about your restlessness?"

"Both."

Kingsley leaned back. "It's only been five years, Harry since I took office. Do you think I'm already so doddered that I wouldn't remember the thrill of the chase?"

"No," Harry chuckled and blurted out, "Why me specifically, though?" Waiting and wondering if he was going to get another spiel about "The Boy Who Lived."

"I _know_ you, Harry, and knew of you before the war, so I happen to take a personal interest in you. Also, every witch or wizard under the command of the Ministry is routinely evaluated to assess that they are not being unduly influenced or overtasked in their daily lives. Each one of my personnel has a mission, and make no bones about it; every day here is a mission. Everyone in this building is considered to be under my umbrella, so I make it a point to check in periodically." He continued after giving Harry a hard stare that made him squirm in his seat.

"When someone returns from a field mission, though, they are admitted to St. Mungo's for appraisal. They undergo many tests to ascertain that they haven't been corrupted or misused during their mission."

"Standard S.O.P." Harry stiffened in his seat as the implication settled in. "I hadn't realized you were party to the examinations."

"I'm not, usually, however, whenever there is a concern then I am notified."

"And there is a concern about me?" Harry inquired.

"Maybe, although I mostly receive glowing reports about you."

Harry shook his head, discouraged. "I'm just Harry."

"So modest," Kingsley murmured, and Harry rolled his eyes.

Kingsley shuffled several parchments around then picked up one and read, "Hit Wizard Potter is invaluable to his squad and this entire company. His very presence keeps morale at a high level and helps to set an impeccable standard for the Hit-Wizards he is paired with. I highly recommend him for further training as an Auror."

Clearing his throat, Kingsley continued. "Hit-Wizard Potter has a hyper-vigilance stance on all his cases and succeeds in solving his current caseloads with efficiency and swiftness that is appreciated by both his peers and superiors. He works well in both a subordinate and leadership role, but also is constructive alone."

Harry sat in silence after Kingsley finished reading his evaluations. 

"I've another assessment I'd like to share with you."

Harry sighed and waved his hand at Kingsley.

"St Mungo's has noticed that there is a sense of apathy and lethargy with Hit Wizard Potter's post-case assessments. Though Potter is young in his career, the Magical Law Enforcement field is stressful and care should be taken with the ones charged to see to the realm's safety. Medi-Wizard Daughtry does not feel as if Potter is a danger to himself or others, but feels a moderate amount of time away from the duties is due before further indicators of occupational exhaustion present." 

Harry stared at the wall over Kingsley's head. He had to admit that the cases weren't keeping his attention as before, but he didn't know why. It wasn't that he was seeking out action or had a death wish, but he was distracted, and he didn't know what to do about it. He knew something was out of sync in his life and he couldn't quite figure out what that was. Nothing he tried; immersing himself in a case, relaxing with his friends or even going flying with Teddy had disbursed the nagging sensation of something being "wrong".

Kingsley watched Harry the entire time he thought about what had been said, and he could feel that gaze on his skin seeming to reach into his very soul. "So you are proposing a furlough?"

Kingsley nodded. "I think so. How does three weeks sound?"

Harry closed his eyes. "Like a bloody long time to debate what I am to do with myself?"

Chuckling, Kingsley signed a parchment with a flourish of his quill. "Didn't I hear that you were made a godfather, again, recently?"

"I think Ron and Lavender are going to give Molly a run for her money, but yes."

"Good. Go see the new baby. Spend some time with Teddy and Andromeda; they'll both enjoy it."

Harry arched an eyebrow. "Andromeda?"

Kingsley shrugged. "She mentioned she missed you the last time we had dinner."

Eyes wide, Harry stared at Kingsley. "She did?"

"She did." Kingsley passed several sheets of parchment to Harry. "Go, Harry. Take some time to yourself, spend it with friends and family, but do it. Think about what _you_ want."

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't know already." He jerked the papers out of Kingsley's hands with a grimace.

"Perhaps. But do you ever think that maybe you deserve something more?"

Harry opened his mouth, not certain what he was going to say but whatever it had been was caught in his throat. 

"That's what I thought. Spend some time outside, Harry. See the trees and enjoy the sunshine." Kingsley smiled. "I hear the Royal Forest of Dean is nice this time of year."

Harry shoved to his feet with a scowl in Kingsley's direction and stormed out of the office.

~*~

"So, I have three bloody weeks off," Harry finished his rant and eyed Ron who held a tiny child in his arms. Ron's head was bowed, his eyes closed and his breathing slow and even.

Harry shook his head and arched up to see if the baby was asleep as well. Rose looked up at him with impossibly blue eyes that were dark and liquid. As unfocused as they were, he felt as if she were judging him. He ran his finger down the baby's nose, grinned as she wrinkled her face and her large eyes crossed at the proximity of him.

"Charming my little girl already, Harry?"

"She's the only one that holds my heart, Lavender, " Harry laughed and looked up as Lavender entered the room and stood to greet her. He wrapped his arms about her, the scent of her namesake flower, lavender, and baby powder enveloping him until she pulled away.

"Slick," Lavender murmured.

"I try."

"Sure you do, Harry. Let me just take her so you can finish your chat." 

Shaking her head, she smiled down at Ron and the baby then turned to Harry. The scars on her face were still present, though only slight silver lines, and Harry could feel her satisfaction with herself and her life as if it were a shining beacon. 

It made him feel a bit uncomfortable while she continued to watch him for what seemed like an eternity. Then she bent and gently lifted the baby out of Ron's arms, and he startled awake.

"I've got her!" Ron shouted and jumped again when Rose let out a shocked cry.

Lavender laughed even as she rocked the baby to settle her. She bent and pressed a kiss to Ron's temple. He smiled, closed his eyes as her mouth buzzed his forehead. 

"Try to stay awake for poor Harry, Ron, he's having a crisis."

"I'm not having a crisis," Harry muttered. 

"Maybe you just need some time away," Ron answered and yawned. "Sorry, mate, but it's hell with a newborn. Somehow I don't remember it being this rough with little Arthur."

Harry shook his head and stood. "Go rest, Ron. I'll just let Andromeda and Teddy know I am taking a furlough."

"Right. Very well," Ron managed through another yawn. "Lock the door when you go."

Harry flicked his wand at the front door, still feeling as if he was missing something, something utterly important to his life, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He doused the lights with a shake of his head and then Apparated away.

~*~

Harry appeared at the end of the lane to the Tonks House. He walked slowly, taking in the changes from winter to spring. Buds on the trees were just breaking through the branch ends and little green leaves were just winking into existence, their vibrant green colour in deep contrast with the stark brown of the tree's limbs.

Cattails swayed in the breeze around the pond, where Harry knew, bright red and white Koi swam under the protection of a climate charm. He could almost hear Teddy's happy voice shouting as he continued to walk toward the house. They were pleasant sounds of home and hearth that Harry had missed. It was quiet here in the country, unlike his London flat. Still, he felt a sense of disconnect here just as he had at Ron's home, no matter how welcome he was at both residences.

Fallen leaves left over from the autumn crunched under his feet and a different sort of rustle sounded. He paused and bent down, digging through the matted carpet of dead foliage to find a faded brochure. He brushed away the mud and narrowed his eyes to read the faded print.

" _...noblest ruin in Herefordshire" and is considered by historian Adrian Pettifer to be the "most …_ "

Harry studied the pock-marked images, seeing the castle's turrets and sandstone brick guardian walls that looked like any other ruin, only oddly familiar in some way. He brought the pamphlet closer to his face, studying the images of 'Roaring Meg' and trying to make out the rest of the historical facts about the castle.

"Whatcha got, Harry?"

Harry jumped as he looked up from the paper. Andromeda and Teddy stood at the ward boundary, looking out at him. He blinked and glanced down as the wind tore the brochure out of his hands. He tried to snatch it from the strong breeze, but his Seeker skills failed. Teddy burst through the wards, arms outstretched to helped him, leaping up and around until the paper was long gone, both Teddy and Harry were breathing hard from their efforts.

Harry scooped up Teddy and smiled at Andromeda. "Hello, Dromeda."

Andromeda smiled and nodded at him. "Come in and have tea with us."

"You're here for tea?!" Teddy shouted and wrapped his arms around Harry's neck.

Choking in the tight hold, Harry sputtered out, "Yes, and if you'll let me breathe, I can stay for longer if you want."

Teddy squealed and Harry winced at the high pitch of the boy's voice. Teddy's arms tightened even more as Harry started to see stars from lack of oxygen. His head pounded but a soft voice broke through the noise, Teddy's arms loosening as Andromeda eased Teddy's stranglehold on Harry.

"You are always welcome, Harry," Dromeda said and opened the door to the large two-story house.

"Thanks, Dromeda," Harry answered and carried Teddy inside. As he crossed the threshold, some of the detachment he felt wore off. He set Teddy on the floor, wincing once more as Teddy called for the orange tabby that had shown up on their doorstep not too long ago.

The old tom's fur had been matted and his smushed face filthy, but Andromeda had allowed Teddy to keep the feline beast. Simply named Kneazle, the cat followed Teddy about, allowing himself to be carried in Teddy's small arms with nary a protest. Unless Harry was in the house.

Kneazle would rub his face all over Harry and be content to allow Harry to stroke his ears. Harry felt another bit of calm creep over him as Teddy carried the cat into the room. Settling on the sofa with Teddy in his lap and Kneazle in Teddy's, Harry rubbed the cat's ear and grinned at the rumbling purrs that issued forth. Teddy giggled and rested his head against Harry's chest as Andromeda placed the tea tray on the low table in front of him.

As comforting as both Teddy and Kneazles' presence was, Harry's mind was still preoccupied with the odd pamphlet that the breeze had stolen from him.

"On leave, so soon?" Andromeda asked, her voice quiet as she passed Harry a teacup and handed Teddy a chocolate biscuit.

"How did you know?" Harry sipped his tea, brewed and prepared perfectly to his liking. "Nevermind, Kingsley told you."

Andromeda hummed. "Possibly, but I can see it in your face," she began then held up a hand when he protested. "A mother knows these things, Harry. Don't try to give me a line. I saw it in Nymphadora's face a time or two."

Harry bit his lip and shrugged. She smiled at him and leaned back in her armchair. "Stay as long as you like, Harry. It'll be good for both you and Teddy."

With a sigh, Harry nodded. "I will, but I don't want to intrude long."

Andromeda nodded. "I know. Spring stirs something in the air. Just be careful with yourself."

Harry smiled at her. "When have you known me not to have done?"

Andromeda just shook her head at him.


	2. Just A Feeling

**Chapter 2: Just a Feeling**

After two weeks with Teddy, Harry was more exhausted than he had been when he had arrived. Tucking the finally sleeping boy into his bed, Harry backed out of the room and crashed into Andromeda. Her hair was still damp from the shower, and Harry could smell the lilac-scented bath soap she favoured. Her scent was soft and one that he had come to associate with comfort.

During his holiday, Andromeda's presence had soothed his ruffled nerves and allowed him the time to search out what he needed. It felt good to just play with Teddy and not worry about a spell or wizard out to get him, having someone's back or even training for something even more stressful.

Though he had done his share of relaxing, he also had time to think about what he wanted. He still wasn't certain what was missing or just exactly what he wanted, he had felt the change come over him and loosen the stranglehold the dissatisfaction had on him.

"Sorry," Harry and Andromeda whispered together as they held onto each other's shoulders to prevent falling into a tangle. Trying not to laugh too hard and wake Teddy after the day that they had had, they trooped down the stairs. Holding in the remaining chuckles, they made their way into the kitchen and Andromeda prepared them a drink, each. She set the highball glass in front of Harry and sighed as she sipped the Pimm's Ice Tea.

Harry hadn't been all that fond of the drink at first, but over the course of his holiday, he had warmed up to the beverage. In fact, it was over one of her cocktails, that Harry had confided in Andromeda about the missing piece in his life. She'd listened to his story and then given him only one bit of advice; go find it.

He was finally ready to do so, and he had a feeling that she knew it, too.

"Are you leaving in the morning, then?" Andromeda asked as she finished another sip.

Harry swallowed down a drink then nodded. "I think it's time, don't you?"

She shrugged. "Only if you are certain, Harry. I'm not asking you to leave. It's been wonderful having you."

Harry smiled. "Thank you. I have thoroughly enjoyed myself."

"My pleasure."

Harry nodded. "I think I need to go back and see if there is anything I missed."

Taking a deep breath, Andromeda nodded. "I can understand your reluctance, but I also understand the desire to make certain. You and Ron almost lost your lives in the forest."

"He won't talk about that time, and I can almost understand it, but I need to. I need someone to listen. Something happened there and I either don't remember or have forgotten. It seems as if something is trying to reach out to me and I can't put it off for any longer. I've a week left to find out what that thing is and see if I can't move past it."

Andromeda hummed. "Intuition is a powerful thing, but the mind is as well, Harry. Don't rush whatever it is that you are trying to find. Sometimes it needs to make its own way out without force."

"I think that in the past five years, the problem is worming its way to the surface."

"Sounds like you are ready then," Andromeda answered and finished off her cocktail. She stood. "Ted's shop is open for you, so anything that you need you can use. I know there is camping equipment inside; I just don't know what sort of condition the items are in, though."

Harry drained his glass and nodded, standing with her. "I'll just go look and see what I can find." He shook his head. "Merlin, I never thought I would ever go camping again."

Andromeda chuckled and placed their glasses in the sink. She turned and gathered him into her arms, holding him tight for several minutes. Harry returned her embrace, holding her loosely in spite of the way her arms held him tight. Raising her face, she planted a soft kiss to his forehead. "We'll be waiting when you return."

Harry closed his eyes and nodded. "Thanks, Andromeda, for everything."

"Nonsense. Look at me, Harry."

Harry opened his eyes, watching her as something floated across her face before she suppressed her concerns.

She pressed her hands to his cheeks and searched his face, finally staring into his eyes. "Just come back safe, love," she whispered then turned and fled the room.

Harry sighed and turned, exited the kitchen door, approaching the small storage building. He waved his wand over the door, releasing the spells preserving the contents. Opening the door, Harry stepped inside and looked around at the expanded room.

Three bicycles and two brooms hung from the ceiling. In the back corner was a familiar bag that he knew held a tent that had been expanded. He stepped forward to pick up the bag and jumped as a crash sounded behind him.

"Merow!"

"Kneazle!"

The old ginger tom lifted his face, looking up at Harry through the scattered fishing poles, Beater's bats and other sports and garden equipment he had knocked over. Kneazle climbed out of the debris and rubbed on Harry's leg. Orange hairs clung to the denim and Harry bent to run a hand along the cat's back.

"Scared the life from me, old boy."

"Merow!"

"Oh? Anything else you've to say?" Harry smiled at the cat and straightened. He dragged the tent out of the shed and closed the door.

In a few minutes, with the help of Kneazle, Harry had the tent up and was inspecting the canvas for rips and holes. He entered and glanced around, a feeling of anticipation and also of familiarity coming over him. 

"Harry?"

Exiting the tent, Harry found Andromeda holding a box of food and other supplies. "Here. I had Kreacher fetch you some food and a few blankets. A change of clothing."

"Thank you again." Harry pressed a kiss to her cheek then took the box into the tent. Andromeda followed him and helped stow the items and then they repacked the tent into its bag.

"Come get some sleep, and Teddy and I will see you off in the morning," Andromeda said, dusting off her hands when everything was settled on the porch waiting for Harry's departure.

"I appreciate all you've done for me," Harry offered and held open the door for her. Kneazle zipped between their legs, nearly knocking Andromeda off her feet. He hissed and batted a bit of paper along the floor then darted into the parlour.

"Bloody cat," Andromeda snarled and stomped after the ball of fluff. "Give me whatever it is you've dragged into this house!"

Harry laughed at her then bent to catch the cat as he skidded back into the foyer, the paper firmly caught in his mouth. He brought it right to Harry, ignoring the kissy noises Andromeda made.

Harry wrestled the page from him, narrowing his eyes to read the crumpled text.

_Visit the Wye Valley, Goodrich Castle and the Forest of Dean…_

Under the text was an image of sandstone brick walls and tourists wandering through the castle.

"Kneazle, where did you get this?"

"Merow!" Kneazle pawed the paper in Harry's hand, tore the sheet in half and took off running again, leaving Harry and Andromeda to stare after him. 

"What has gotten into that cat?" Andromeda murmured and shook her head.

Harry looked down at the bit of paper he had left. 

_Goodrich Castle and the Forest of Dean_

On the back was a partial image of a butterfly.

"I don't know, but I'm for bed," Harry said and folded the paper in half before tucking it away in his pocket. "You and I both know Teddy will be up early."

"Too right, Harry. Good night, love."

"Night, Dromeda."

~*~

After a few tears, several goodbye hugs, and a promise on Harry's part to return, Teddy let Harry leave. He walked to the end of the lane, turning back once to wave to Teddy as he rested on Andromeda's hip, and then he Apparated away.

Reappearing in the pretty countryside of Ross on Wye, Harry looked around at the green pastures and low fog hanging about the ground. He adjusted the pack on his shoulder and made his way to Castle Lane. The maps Andromeda had weren't current but Harry figured that a castle ruin was pretty hard to miss. Approaching from the forest side, he walked up to a building marked Visitor Centre.

An older woman unlocked the door and opened it, dragging out a marquee from the entrance way.

"Hello?"

"Oh!" The woman jumped and spun around. "You frightened the life out of me." 

"Sorry," Harry offered and walked up the short row of stairs toward the open door. 

"I'm afraid we aren't open for business just yet." She looked at her watch. "About another fifteen minutes or so."

"Ah, all right. Can I still look around?"

"Did you pay the car park fee?"

Harry grinned. "Yes."

The woman eyed him then nodded. "The garden trails are open, but the tea room and Heritage sites will be closed until ten."

"And the castle?"

"Castle? There's no castle here, young man. You've to go over to Herefordshire for that."

Confused, Harry dug into his pocket and pulled out the bit of brochure Kneazle had brought him. "This is Ross on Wye, correct?"

"Yes. We've gardens and a butterfly zoo, the hedge puzzle, canoeing and camping, but no castle, lad."

"Are you certain?"

The woman laughed. "Bloody hard to miss, don't you think?"

"I thought so but I must have been mistaken."

The woman laughed. "Come inside and have some tea. I'll get you a pamphlet for Wilton Castle. It's not far."

"Thank you."

Harry followed her inside, looking over the shelf with the tourist maps and recommended places to visit. Not one mentioned Goodrich Castle. He pocketed a few of the other pamphlets and thanked the woman for the tea.

After eating a few biscuits and forming a plan, Harry ventured out of the visitor's centre and walked the pathway to the forest. Groups of children, couples and individuals walked along a wide stone pathway. The forest came right up to the path as it veered through the woods and on to other places.

Harry waited until he was alone then crossed under the barrier and made his way into the forest proper. It was eerily silent even though he could still hear a tour guide giving his spiel. He moved deeper into the forest, the sun barely shining through the dense trees and foliage. He came upon one area that was so still and quiet, it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

He moved into the clearing, and not five feet inside he stopped and was pushed back. His feet dragged on the ground as he was physically turned around. He walked a few feet then recognized a patch of foxglove that he had passed on his way into the clearing.

Stopping, Harry turned in a slow circle, looking around and up, trying to get his bearings. He shrugged off his pack and drew his wand.

" _Point me_!"

The wand spun crazily on his palm for several minutes then pointed north. Harry picked up his pack and started north once more, only to be pushed back the other direction again. He watched it happen this time as his wand nearly arched up off his hand. He barely caught the holly wood length before it hit the ground.

"What in Merlin's name?"

Harry sat down on the forest floor and dug out the brochures he'd grabbed from the visitor centre, looking for a current map. Unfolding one, he found the visitor centre and tracked his progress with his wand.

Tiny footprints marched across the map, creating his trail until they abruptly stopped and backtracked over themselves. Harry watched the prints circle about on the map and shook his head. He pushed his glasses up on to his head, rubbed his eyes and then took the glasses off and cleaned the lenses.

He adjusted the frames back on his face and focused on the map again. The footprints were still moving about in a circular fashion. Harry looked around the area, then stood, walking forward until he felt the push. He turned back around and pointed his wand at the invisible barrier.

" _Aguamenti_!"

A jet of water shot from Harry's wand, splashing against the barrier. Harry gaped at the shield through the water then stopped the charm. Droplets ran down the barrier and Harry stepped forward, casting the water-making spell once more so he could remain focused on the correct way.

The water drenched his clothing, but Harry continued to press forward. When he was just a few inches from the shield, he stopped and took a deep breath. He cancelled the water spell, took a deep breath and shouted, " _Confringo_!"

The blast knocked him off his feet and Harry flew back several yards. He hit a tall evergreen with a hard crack and moaned as he fell to the ground. Lifting his head and groaning, Harry saw stars. Through the pain, he squinted and looked for the shield.

A giant hole in the forest showed a stone wall made of sandstone coloured bricks.

"Bloody hell," Harry whispered then gave into the darkness pressing in on him.


	3. Beautiful Goodbye

**Chapter 3: Beautiful Goodbye**

"What have you done?" Hermione looked down at the prone figure lying on the forest floor. Though he was lying on his face, she would know that hair anywhere. She sighed and turned him over. "Oh, Harry…"

Hermione looked at her cat. "Is this your doing?"

Crookshanks stared back at her as if contemplating her question. He glanced over at Harry then back up at Hermione, narrowing his eyes at her. He lifted one paw at her. "Merow!"

"You know I had no choice, and I told you to stay away from my friends, lest it weakens the spell."

Crookshanks shifted, lifting his leg and licked himself, ignoring her then began purring. He stopped suddenly then moved closer to Harry. "Merow!"

Rolling her eyes at the indignant sounding chirrups that followed Crookshanks' explanation, Hermione gestured to the rapidly expanding hole in her spell. "Just look at this mess. I'm going to have to use the mirror to hide me again."

"Merow."

Hermione shook her head as Crookshanks walked around Harry and nudged his hand. Harry's fingers twitched and Hermione felt a twinge of sympathy move through her. "It figures that you would be the one to break through the spell, Harry, so now what am I going to do?"

"I can keep him. It has been lonely around here." Her own voice answered, the sound echoing from somewhere near Hermione's left.

"Obliviate him and send for help. I can't afford for someone to find me." Again, her voice replied, this time from her right and she felt conflicted.

"I don't know what I want," Hermione murmured. "And you aren't helping me one bit."

"Actually, I've given two excellent points of advice, but you know yourself well, and will do whatever suits your fancy." Once again her voice came, echoing all around her.

Exasperated, Hermione closed her eyes. Making this decision was almost as difficult as her exile had been years before. She didn't know what she wanted at this moment in time, and her magic took over, making the choice for her.

The grass rolled beneath Harry, rising up and making a litter, and then carried him along the forest floor, gently moving his body into the spell's boundaries. Once he was past the break, Hermione withdrew an ornate silver mirror.

"The spell has been breached and I need a repair."

The surface of the mirror blazed white and Hermione turned the shining object to the hole. The light shot from the mirror, covering the rupture. The spell lines moved, knitting back together into an impervious barrier. Once the opening was completely closed off, Hermione closed her eyes and sagged against the stone wall.

Her head pounded and she rubbed at her temple with thick, scaly fingers, trying to dissipate a headache that was forming due to the magic use. Holding her breath, she waited while more dusty coloured-plates formed, rendering her skin more and more snake-like in appearance.

The curse finished enacting her punishment, the new dirt-like flakes of skin itched and she ran her hand along her forearm, trying to rid herself of the sensation. No matter how hard she tried, it never worked, and so Hermione just let the curse finish in its own time.

She focussed on Harry, trying to ignore the magic that made her a monster. What was she going to do with him? She took him into the embrace of the powerful magic hiding her, and she would have to call on the Unspeakables soon before someone in the outside world noticed him missing. Opening her eyes, she looked down at Harry and noticed the blood running down his neck.

"Merow!"

"Yes, I see it."

Crookshanks growled at her and nudged Harry's limp hand once more.

Hermione glared at Crookshanks. "Don't take that tone with me; this is entirely your fault."

"Merow!"

"Take him to the infirmary. I'll heal what I can then make a decision about what to do with him."

The grass cot moved swiftly across the stone flooring and Crookshanks trotted alongside Harry's gurney. Hermione pushed herself off the wall and followed. They moved from the Outer Ward of the castle into what had once been the Courtyard. Her garden of herbs, flowers and vegetables was bright and vibrant in the climate controlled area, and as the stretcher with Harry's body moved across the path, with Crookshanks in the lead, she stopped and picked up the plants and flowers she needed to heal Harry of his injuries.

She bundled the cuttings in her fist, her eyes followed the litter as it moved on to the next room.

Crossing the Courtyard, she entered the original wooden portion of the Keep and moved into the kitchen. Digging into the cabinet, Hermione withdrew several storage bottles, stowing the newly picked herbs, that would replenish her stores. She then removed several preserved potion bottles she thought she might need.

Returning to the Courtyard, Hermione caught up with Harry's body in what was once the Lobby. The grass grew long, lifting Harry up to form a table.

" _Sententia!_ " Lifting the mirror, the shiny glass surface turned toward Harry, Hermione moved the mirror down the length of his body. His injuries crawled out of the mirror in smoky grey letters. Bruises, scrapes, bruised ribs, cracked skull and concussion. He'd done a bang-up job, literally, in finding her. She shook her head and gave a mental nod to Madame Pomfrey as she sorted out the potions she would need first.

" _Indumentis ad removendum_!"

Harry's clothing shredded, the fibres crawling away from his body, leaving him bare. Hermione stared at Harry, taking in the scars that marred his body. His life was laid bare on his skin and as she examined him, she noticed how much he had changed in the intervening years. He wasn't the boy she'd grown up with any longer, but a fully matured man. She felt heat in her cheeks as she forced herself to remain clinical and calm.

Carefully turning Harry over, she continued her inspection. Bruises were already beginning to form on his back and little contusions where he had impacted with the tree were scattered all along his arse.

The back of his head was dirty, the matted hair still oozing blood. He was going to have a massive headache once he woke, but she would deal with that aspect later. First, the immediate physical needs.

She settled potion bottles over the areas in most need of healing, carefully balancing them on Harry's body. " _Corpus Diffundi_!"

The potions drained out of the bottles and spread out over and into Harry's body. The bruises and scrapes faded almost immediately, removing the colourful marks from his person and leaving behind nearly perfect pale skin.

One mark lingered on his arse cheek and she bent closer to examine the spot. With a grin, Hermione realized the mark was nothing more than a small freckle and left it be.

With careful and gentle strokes, she cleaned away the blood and dirt from his hair and flipped him onto his back. Summoning a towel, she covered his crotch and placed the bottle of blood replenisher across his mouth. " _Haurio! _"__

When that vial was empty, she put a flask of Skele-Gro on his mouth and cast the spell again. One more change of bottles and the spell, she dosed Harry with Dreamless sleep and she was done.

"Dress him and take him to the North Tower to rest. If he wakes before me, then make certain he stays out of my quarters in the Barbican."

The grass did her bidding, taking the towel covered Harry out of her sight. She watched him leave then took off running before the spell hit her for her punishment. It had been a long time since she had used this much magic, and the consequences would be awful. She slammed the door to her bedroom shut just as the curse connected and she collapsed on the floor.

The carpet folded, rising Hermione up off the floor and transported her to her bed. The cursed wracked her body, forming thick, mud coloured scales all over her prone and unconscious form.


	4. Get Back In My Life

**Chapter 3: Get Back In My Life**

With a groan, Harry sat up and yawned. He stretched and winced as aches and pains made themselves known. Rubbing his head, he hissed as his fingers ran over the still tender bump on his skull. He tried to remember what had happened and all that came to him was the blast.

 _Stupid, there, Harry. Real stupid._ It was a wonder how he remained alive, and contributed this survival to sheer dumb luck. 

Patting his hand on the bed, he searched out his glasses and finally found them on the pillow next to him. He settled the frames on his face and the room came into focus.

"Mr Potter?"

A soft voice echoed through the room and Harry jumped, looking around for the person that matched the voice. It seemed familiar, but he couldn't quite place where he knew it from.

"Mr Potter?"

"Yes… ma'am?"

The voice chuckled. "Welcome to Goodrich Castle. I hope you slept well."

Harry nodded, the pleasantries settled him somewhat and the more the voice talked the sense that he knew who it was, grew stronger. "I… yes, thank you."

"It was the least I could do even though you so rudely barged into my solitude. You managed to test my casualty knowledge."

"Sorry, I had to come, though."

"Oh?"

"Yes," Harry began and ran a hand through his hair once more, wincing as he fingered the tender spot. 

"Are you in pain?"

Harry dropped his hand and looked around the room, searching for the sound's origin. Voices just didn't manifest out of thin air; they were always attached to something. He'd learned that the hard way, and yet he couldn't seem to find this increasingly familiar speaker in anything in the room that he could see.

The furnishings were plain; just the bed and an armoire. The room's decorations were spartan except for a large ornate mirror on the wall. A heavy door made of several slats of what appeared to be oak, and secured with wrought iron fastenings appeared to be the only way in or out in spite of the window. And still, no sign of the disembodied voice.

"Are you still in pain?"

"How did you know? Where are you?" He threw back the blankets then realized he was nude. He jerked the sheets back up, covering his chest. "Why am I naked? Where's my wand?"

The voice answered, sounding a bit tired. "You blasted your way into my domain, injuring yourself in the process. I healed you."

The mirror glowed and the surface warped, a spiral spinning in the clear finish that made Harry want to vomit. His image vanished and in the centre of the spiral, a black spot appeared. A table fell out followed by the knapsack Andromeda had loaned him landed on top.

A few potion bottles dropped slowly from the mirror before the surface glazed over, still and silent once more. "Your possessions."

"Thank you," Harry offered.

"Just pull the rope by the door when you are ready to leave." Harry watched as a long bit of rope unfurled from the ceiling to hang beside the heavy door.

Harry dragged the sheets around him as he left the bed and grabbed his bag, uncertain if the person who had been speaking was still watching. There was no place to dress in privacy, so he settled for climbing back into bed, and pulling on his spare set of clothing from the knapsack. Dressing under the blankets was difficult, more so as his head was beginning to pound, but he wasn't exposing himself again.

Once clothed, Harry padded over to the door, his sack slung over one shoulder. His head pounded from the effort expended to dress, but he tugged the rope. The door crept open slowly.

"Are you going to ignore my hospitality and not take the potions?"

The voice sounded irritated and offended at the same time. It almost made Harry laugh at the indignity at his refusal. "You can hardly blame me."

"Oh, I place all the blame on you, Mr Potter…"

"How do you know who I am?"

The voice was silent and Harry pursed his lips. He moved toward the door, and it slammed shut.

"Take the bloody potions, Harry."

Harry slowly turned from the door and looked around the room. "I know you," he whispered. "I will figure this out, you know."

"I have no doubts you'll try." This time the voice sounded amused, and that irritated Harry to no end. He dug into his knapsack and drew out his wand. "Open the door."

"Take the potions."

"Open the door or I'll blast my way out."

"Take the potions, first… please."

Harry aimed his wand at the door. "Let. Me. Go."

The voice sighed the sound heavy with regret and something else Harry couldn't quite place. "I really wish I could," it answered then trailed away. "But you've exhausted me, and it will have to wait."

"Ma'am?"

The room was completely silent now, and it unnerved Harry. The furnishings began to waver, fading into transparency. The table vanished, the potion bottles crashed to the floor, spilling their contents into a technicolour mess. The rope vanished next the heavy twine slipping through his fingers and Harry fell to the floor.

As he watched, the wood on the door began to decay, the iron brackets clanking to the floor was loud in the ruins of the silent room.

Kneazle stepped through the open portal. "Merow?"

Harry blinked. "Kneazle?"

"Merow."

Kneazle turned tail and pranced away, and Harry scrambled to his feet to follow the cat. "Wait!"

Kneazle just moved faster, and Harry ran to catch up. He followed the cat through the ruined castle, dodging what looked like displays and plaques. Kneazle skidded down an old stone staircase, and Harry nearly lost his footing as he followed. 

"Stop!"

Kneazle kept going, sprinting through an immense courtyard. Harry slowed to look around in wonder at the fantastic garden that remained bright and full of life amidst the stone ruins. He turned in a circle and caught the flash of orange as Kneazle raced out of sight.

Dashing after the fluffy tail, Harry ran up the next set of stairs, still trying to capture Kneazle, only to come to an abrupt stop as Kneazle dashed into an open doorway.

"Merow!"

Huffing, Harry bent at his knees trying to catch his breath. His heart and his head pounded and he felt sick to his stomach. Kneazle returned to the door, looking out at Harry and waiting.

"Merow!"

"Stupid cat, " Harry muttered and straightened, holding on to his side as he walked closer to the door.

Kneazle trouped back inside the darkened room, and Harry paused. He took a deep breath and then lit his wand.

The Lumos wasn't bright but it gave him enough light to see inside. He pushed the door opened wider and a musty smell, like dried leaves and decay, scented the room. He pinched his nose and Harry recalled the particular smell of old age and dust from his long-ago visit to Godric's Hollow and Bathilda Bagshot's house.

Carefully stepping into the room, Harry peered around in the darkness. Kneazle stood in the path of his wand light and something in the far corner of the room glowed with an ethereal light.

He walked toward the light, narrowing his eyes to see if he could identify what was causing the glow. The flower's stark white petal glistened around the spiny crown of golden thorns in the centre. It floated just above the table, spinning gently in a small circle. Entranced, he identified the flower, remembering a girl that had once conjured a large ring of Christmas Roses for his parents grave. 

"Merow?"

Harry looked down at the cat. "Crookshanks?"

"Merow."

"How…" Memories flooded into Harry's mind, flashing fast like a moving picture and Harry gasped. He leaned forward, grabbing on to the table with the rose to steady himself. His head pounded and he closed his eyes against the pain. Darkness closed in on Harry as he swayed then dropped to his knees.

"Hermione?"

"Right here, Harry," answered the voice from his room and Harry gave into the pain, collapsing onto the floor.


	5. Lost Stars

**Chapter 5: Lost Stars**

The large mirrored surface swirled, dense fog swam in waves until a dark outline formed. "Miss Granger?"

"I have a problem, Unspeakable Nock."

The dark form leaned forward, bowing out the front of the mirror and looked around the darkened room. "So I see."

"I don't recall his disposition being this delicate," Hermione said.

"Return of memories and his concussion have something to do with his condition, Miss Granger. I did warn you of the consequences if someone was able to break through the spells cast."

Hermione cleared her throat. "And Crookshanks' involvement?"

"The Kneazle's ability to detect suspicion is well-known. However, I do believe Crookshanks has his own agenda when it comes to his owner."

Hermione shook her head and looked down at the Kneazle in question. "I warned you about going out and look what you brought back. We've been exposed."

"Merow!"

"Don't give me sass, mister."

"If you would be so kind to return to our conversation, Miss Granger."

"Yes, my apologies, Unspeakable Nock. Please continue."

The man in the mirror cleared his throat. "As I was saying, Crookshanks' involvement was of his own free will as you might have gathered. Kneazles have a relationship with magic that most individuals don't understand, let alone try to attempt to control them."

Hermione smiled. "Yes, it's why I asked to have him included in the spell casting for me."

"Crookshanks moves with impunity between the magical and Muggle worlds because he is both, and because of the spell. I did warn you that allowing him to do so would weaken the protections."

"Yes, I know."

"And the Concealment Charm isn't perfect despite having been reworked over the years. Mass Memory Charms have been known to leave a sense of something missing in those that have been subject to the charm as well as the magic itself deteriorating."

"I understand this as much as I did then, but this goes beyond the spell's purview. Harry shouldn't have been able to recall the memories, let alone break into the safeguards cast by Unspeakables."

Nock chuckled. "He is Harry Potter, Miss Granger."

"I know who he is, sir, but what I don't know is how he managed to bypass spells created to hide magic from the Muggles."

"He isn't a Muggle."

"I know that!" Hermione screeched in frustration. "But why? And why now? I'd been living peacefully, albeit cursed, for nearly five years."

Nock frowned at her. "At his core, Harry Potter is human, and though magic may seem all powerful, it is still subject to human nature and emotions, Miss Granger. Sod's law, as well as Finagle's law, both apply in this situation."

"Yes," Hermione answered in agreement. "I wasn't making any sort of breakthrough with the curse, but the aftereffects of magic use have almost tripled."

"I did warn you that this was a possibility."

"I took it under advisement when I made the choice to conceal myself."

"And yet, you didn't ask any of us how we felt about being excluded from your life."

Hermione jumped when Harry spoke and whirled around to face him. "Harry!"

Harry gave her a tight smile. "In the living, but bruised flesh."

Hermione huffed. "So I see."

Harry ran a hand through his hair, wincing as he brushed over the goose egg knot on the back of his head. "Care to tell me what happened?"

Hermione glanced at the mirror, noting the surface had fogged over and sighed. She turned back to Harry. "Not particularly. Would you care for an Obliviation and a push in the proper direction home?"

Harry stepped back from her. "You'd do that, again, after all the trouble I've been through to find you?"

Sighing again, Hermione sat down, a chair conjuring itself from thin air for her. A second chair appeared for Harry and he poked it with a finger before settling in the comfortable lounger. "You were never meant to find me, Harry."

"But why?"

Hermione closed her eyes and whispered. "I was cursed, and nothing could be done about it."

"Did you even ask for help?"

"Of course I did! Books held no answer. Molly's offer was creams and potions that didn't work. Nothing Muggle worked either."

Harry nodded, and she watched him while he worked over what she had said to him. "And still you didn't ask us… your friends, me?"

"How could I when you felt as if the magical world was asking you to continue to solve their problems?"

"Don't turn this around on me, Hermione?"

"Dammit Harry, why can't you just leave well enough alone?"

"You took my choice away!"

"I did it to protect you," Hermione answered in a quiet voice. 

"So did Dumbledore and I hated it then as much as I despise it now."

"You wouldn't understand," Hermione said. "You didn't need the added burden I possessed."

"Then explain it to me. You never had any qualms about that in the past. Let me make my own decisions about the situation because I can't go back to my life as it was before. I just can't. I am bloody miserable, Hermione, and it could all be because you are gone from my life."

"Don't you dare lay that on me, Harry James," Hermione snarled. The sound almost a growl and she clapped her hand over her mouth.

"If I may intrude upon the situation before it escalates into something more." The mirror interrupted. "We have a choice to make here before the protections enacted begin to deteriorate further."

Hermione turned in her seat, thankful the mirror had intervened and yet anxious as to the Unspeakable's solution. As much as she would like to have Harry's assistance, it would do no good. The curse was progressing faster than anticipated because of her decision to involve him. 

The fogged mirror swirled, illuminating the room, and Hermione shrank back into her chair, allowing the shadows to hide her condition from Harry. "And those choices are?"

"The oblivion spell is cast on Mister Potter once more…"

"No." Harry said in a loud, flat tone. "No more messing with my mind." He looked directly at Hermione. She stiffened in her chair, almost knowing, what the Unspeakable was about to offer in the alternative.

"Or, we allow Mister Potter to stay. To have his chance to assist you in the curse."

"No!" Hermione shouted and jumped to her feet. "I won't allow you to trap him here with me."

Harry stood. "It is not your decision any longer, Hermione." He turned to the mirror. "What are the consequences if I fail?"

Unspeakable Nock watched the two and pointed his wand into the room. The wood bowed out the mirror's surface and spell light shot through the room.

The Christmas rose glowed brighter enlarging to show the detail of the thorn of crowns and each white, pristine petal. "I shall grant you five weeks, Mister Potter. One for each petal on the rose. When the last petal falls, your assistance time ends and I grant Miss Granger's wish for solitude once more. You will forget her and your time in the secluded castle of Godric."

"Castle of Godric?" Harry chuckled. "You hid in someplace that only a Gryffindor could find?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Yes. What better way to hide than to use one of modern magic's principal founders remaining strongholds."

Harry snorted. "One the Queen offered to the Muggles so it could be preserved as a tourist site."

"The spells wouldn't have worked without the blessing of Godric and the Queen, and so the protections could be withdrawn at any time." Unspeakable Nock interrupted once more before further squabbling distracted both Harry and Hermione. "Your answer, Mister Potter."

"I'm staying," Harry answered, and then pointed at Hermione. "Nothing from you since you took the choice from me before." He turned back to the mirror "And my leave from the Ministry?"

"I shall intervene on your behalf with both the minister and the head of the Aurors."

"Thank you," Harry nodded and then turned to Hermione, squinting at her to see through the shadows. "Step into the light, Hermione."

Hermione bit her lip, tasting the bitterness of defeat and shook her head. "No. You don't know what you are getting into Harry. Please reconsider."

"You have been my friend since we were eleven years old, Hermione. What makes you think I would reject you now?"

"You don't know what I have become, Harry. I am not the same person you once knew."

Harry took a step forward and Hermione flinched back, scrambling to stay in the shadows. The chair vanished and she backpedalled away from him. "No! Don't come any closer."

Harry paused and offer his hand to her. "I was angry--still am if the truth be told, Hermione, but let me help you. I have never forsaken you. Not when you had my broom confiscated, not even when my wand was broken."

Harry looked to the mirror. "Help me."

"I have done all I can, Mister Potter. It is now up to you to regain her trust. To break the curse or both of you will be lost to the magic of malice."

Hermione sucked in a breath at the mirror's proclamation. "Are you abandoning me, Unspeakable Nock?"

"No, Miss Granger, however, one can only hide from their problems for so long. I believe outside influence will serve you well. Call on me if you have need of anything not available to you within the castle walls. The spells to hide Miss Granger and Godric's castle will remain until Mister Potter's time frame has ended."

"And if he fails?" Hermione asked, ignoring the look of disbelief on Harry's face.

"Should Mister Potter not succeed then I will hide you again, someplace other than Godric's castle."

Hermione nodded. "Thank you. I accept the bargain."

The mirror surface darkened, stealing almost all the light from the room. Hermione shielded her eyes waiting until she had adjusted to the dimness. The remaining light from the enchanted rose sparkled in the darkness and she looked over at Harry.

"Step into the light," Harry murmured. "Please, Hermione."

"As you wish." Swallowing hard, Hermione moved forward, easing into the shining path the rose illuminated.

Hermione stared at Harry watching and waiting until his eyes widened at her appearance. 

Taller now with the changes the curse had made, Hermione slithered closer. She was covered with scales, thick mud-coloured sections that layered her entire body. Her lower half had merged into a long serpentine shape, reminiscent of the Gorgon Medusa, though no snakes hissed from the tangle of her untouched curls. Her eyes, also free from the curse, stared back at Harry drinking in the sight of him.

"What-- how did this happen?" Harry breathed and continued to stare at her though he came no closer.

"As far as I can deduce; Bellatrix's knife was cursed," Hermione answered. She tilted her head to the side, exposing the one place where the dirty, mud-like scales did not grow, the angry red slash across her neck stood out before she turned her head away.

"The more magic I use, the worse the mud covering becomes. It dries and hardens into the scales you just saw." She remained in the spotlight only for a few moments before sliding into the cover of darkness once more.

Harry shook his head and took a step forward. "I will find the countercurse, Hermione."

"I sincerely hope you can," Hermione answered. "For now though, I need to rest. Explore the castle. See what the Unspeakables have given to me that may be of use for your quest. I'll see you are dinner."

Harry nodded. "I'll be there, and I promise, Hermione. I will fix this."

"Don't make promises you have no hope of keeping, Harry," Hermione answered and slowly slithered further into the darkness.


	6. The Man Who Never Lied

**Chapter 6: The Man Who Never Lied.**

Harry slowly descended the stairs from the Barbican, his thoughts lost in the returned memories and how complete the spells had been. Hermione had been completely erased from their lives. How did one just remove seven intimate years of friendship? Had she had that much of an impact on his life? And what about Ron? Did he have any regrets about the loss of their mutual friend?

Harry had a vague sense his two friends had been heading for something special, that he'd thought of Hermione as a sister, but the circumstances after that Horcrux hunt had blurred in the intervening years. Obviously, Ron had adapted to the spells better than Harry since he had moved on. The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. In fact, he was still rather infuriated at her, even after being allowed to stay to help her, and he spun about to go give her a piece of his mind. In his haste, he tripped over Crookshanks and fell flat on his stomach, the half-Kneazle moving around to look Harry right in the face.

Breathing in the dust and looking at the smushed face of Hermione's beloved feline, and the fact that he could now remember them both took the wind out of his sails. He didn't want to stay upset with her, not really, and so he blew out a sigh. "I take it this was your plan to calm me down? You don't want me to yell at Hermione?"

"Merow."

Crookshank came closer, sniffing Harry's face then pressed his head against Harry's. He rubbed his whiskers against Harry's cheek, upsetting his glasses as he moved his face over Harry's. Harry snorted, but reached out and petted the cat. "I take it that you did this for her benefit, and it took me four years to figure it out?"

Crookshanks settled back on his haunches and stared at Harry before answering with a low hiss and some meows, with a few snarls thrown in for good measure.

"Well, no doubt I am thick, but honestly, I knew you as Kneazle, and you seemed to really like Teddy and Andromeda." Harry offered then closed his eyes and chuckled when Crookshanks meowed at him again. "Apologies, Crooks, all right?"

"Merow!"

"And now I must have completely gone round the twist since I am lying here on the floor and conversing with a bloody cat."

"Merow!"

"Kneazle, my apologies, again, Crookshanks. Merlin!" Harry pushed to his feet and sighed. He turned, looking around the Courtyard, and then glanced at Crookshanks. "Well, want to give me a tour?"

Crookshanks ceased his grooming then looked around the Courtyard as if deciding where to go. He stretched then got to his feet and padded toward the garden. Harry followed, noting the different plants and vegetables that were growing. Many seemed out of place for the climate in England, but as he wandered between the neat rows, he felt the climate charms at work.

Harry reached down, pulled off a sprig of catmint and rubbed the herb between his fingers. He then offered the herb to Crookshanks. Crookshanks sniffed the green leaf and then eyed Harry with disdain, before setting off down the row once more.

Harry tossed the leaf aside and followed Crookshanks through the garden. "So much for making friends. Where are we going now?"

Crookshanks led Harry to the upper corner of the Courtyard and into a short hallway before they exited into the Kitchen. Harry stopped and stared at the room in front of him. The kitchen was a potion master's dream with a set of cauldrons in pewter, brass and gold. All the implements needed to brew in said cauldrons were hanging above a chopping block which was next to a table where there was a cauldron stand.

It occurred to Harry that potion making never required a wand, and therefore had been a safe practice for Hermione. He couldn't see her abandoning the magic that brought her into his life. She exuded it from her skin. It also made him wonder how, in particular, the curse manifested. How could she live in this wondrous and magical castle and not be affected?

His first thought was to remove her from the ruins but knew he'd have a fight on his hands in how he would conceal her. He shook his head, throwing out a myriad of reckless and ill-advised mental attempts and returned to examining his surroundings.

The other side of the kitchen was dedicated to the preparation of food, with also a variety of utensils needed for making meals. Hot and cold cabinets, designated by the warm red or cool blue aura, took up an entire wall on the cooking side, both cabinets filled to the brim with various foodstuffs. He snorted as he looked over the area. His flat had a similar setup. After the sporadic meals he received at the Dursleys, the abundance of Hogwarts food, and the frantic foraging/starving seven months of Horcrux hunting, Harry had vowed to never be hungry again. Looked like Hermione had the same thought as well.

"Merow?"

"Sorry, old boy, wool-gathering." Harry leaned down and stroked the cat along his back. "Please, continue."

Crookshanks took Harry right up to a cabinet on the potion side and meowed again. Harry opened one of the doors and stared at the massive quantity of bottles all labelled in Hermione's careful script. Harry read through the ingredients and took a small bottle with the essence of murtlap, another memory worming its way to the surface and he ran the back of his hand along the leg of his denims.

Turning from the cabinet and tugging the cork free, Harry smelled the scent of pickled murtlap tentacles. With a grimace, he poured some out onto his fingers. Harry gingerly rubbed the essence onto the knot on the back of his head, sighing as the painful cut mended and the swelling eased.

Replacing the bottle, Harry meandered over to the kitchen side and rummaged through Hermione's stores, coming up with a tin of chocolate biscuits that appeared to be homemade and a box of PG Tips. He boiled the kettle for tea and nibbled on the biscuits while the tea steeped.

Taking his cuppa along, Harry exited the Kitchen, navigated his way out of the short hallway and into the Great Hall. Once more Harry stopped and stared at the feats of magic that filled the room. Books lined the walls, from floor to ceiling in such tightly packed shelves, he was almost certain the sheer amount was an illusion. Not that Hermione would allow such a thing, he knew, so every thin spine must be real.

Harry grinned as he set his cup down on an occasional table and walked up to one shelving unit. "Wonder how many books are in this place," he muttered as he stared at the wall of books. He jumped back in surprise when Hermione's voice echoed in the room.

"150 million titles, both Muggle and magic are housed in this room."

"Wow," Harry whispered then whistled softly.

"What book do you desire?" Hermione asked.

"Err… one on healing, please?"

"There are three hundred twenty thousand volumes on Healing in the library. Is there a specific area in which you would like to explore?"

Harry blinked as he listened to Hermione's voice. Of course, there would be so many especially considering that she was anticipating on being exiled for the rest of her life. It upset him all over again, but he put that emotion aside to figure out how he could help her.

"What about ones on curses?"

"Dark Magic curses?"

"Are there any other kind?"

"There are two hundred fifty thousand books related to the word 'curse' in this library. Please be specific when requesting your book."

It figured that Hermione's library would be saucy. He wondered if she was upstairs in her room watching him as he explored her castle.

"What book do you desire?" Hermione asked, again, and Harry realized that Hermione's voice sounded rather canned and unemotional. Like a recording, he thought, wondering how she had made herself librarian to the vast collection.

As he looked around the room, Harry noticed that there were no ladders present to help gather the books, and then he remembered her saying that when _she_ used magic it made the curse symptoms worse. But like Hogwarts, there appeared to be a significant amount of ambient magic about the castle, so the curse must be specific to Hermione and not magic.

But, there had to be a way for all the books to magically fill this room and a way for Hermione to use them that wouldn't harm her. Harry turned in a small circle once more in awe at the ultimate companion for a bookworm.

Harry tried to think of a specific book that she might have used in her search for a cure.

"Um… is there a book of Hermione's research on the curse?"

"There are four journals of Hermione's notes on the Mudblood Curse. Would you like the first volume?"

"Can I have the book on the Mudblood curse instead?"

"There is no tome in this library containing the Mudblood Curse."

Harry frowned. If the curse had been identified, then why wasn't there a book on it? It only took a moment of thinking to realize that Hermione must have named the curse as such. "Can I have the first volume of Hermione's notes?"

A tiny book slipped out of the wall near the bottom of one shelf and enlarged as it floated over to Harry. He grasped the volume and settled down into a squishy looking armchair next to the table that held his teacup.

Opening the journal, Harry began to read the story of Hermione's discovery of the curse, just a few days after the Battle of Hogwarts. Horrified at the contents, Harry forgot all about his tea as he read through Hermione's trials.

~*~

Hermione stirred and rose to a sitting position in the bed. It was dark in her room, which was nothing new, but she felt as if many hours had passed since she had lain down. She rolled her head, stretched, and reached out to the table beside her bed. She felt for the hairbrush and ran it through her unruly curls. Trying to remind her self that it was the little things, daily routines that would keep her sane in her confinement. After a few minutes, she settled the brush back on the table and grasped the silver mirror.

"Show me Harry Potter."

Fog swirled on the surface then Harry materialized. He was seated in the cosy armchair in her library, and she smiled as she watched him sleep. The image expanded to show several books piled on the table and on the floor around him, Crookshanks sleeping in his lap.

The sight made a lump in her throat, and she tried to swallow the sensation away even as tears pricked in her eyes. She rubbed a scaly hand over her eyes, scowling at the rough sensation on her face of the scales scratching together. She laid the mirror down, threw back the blankets and slid out of the bed.

Moving over to the door, Hermione opened it and stared at the stairs leading down. A small sound of distress escaped her when she realized she wouldn't be able to leave her room now that she no longer had legs. Hanging her head, she started back into her room, a grinding noise sounding behind her.

Hermione turned and watched as the stairs smoothed out into a ramp of sorts. She looked back to the room as light shown through the open door.

Unspeakable Nock was in the mirror. "I took the liberty to make some changes to the castle whilst you slept. I am sorry to see the curse has advanced so far."

Hermione pursed her lips. "It was my choice, Unspeakable Nock, to aid Harry which accelerated the curse."

He nodded. "I realize and understand your dilemma. Have you reconsidered your apprehension and are going to cooperate with him to find the method to end the curse?"

"No," Hermione began then shook her head. "Well, I won't hinder him, but I don't believe he will find the cure. In spite of his luck and his apparently new found respect for research, I sincerely doubt there is a cure, especially considering the source."

"Bellatrix Lestrange was horrifically talented, if I may say so."

Hermione snorted. "Unfortunately, I agree with you, even if I don't want to have done."

"Well, if you won't help him, and you will not hinder him, then what was the purpose of having him about?"

"If you recall, I wanted to send him away. It was you who decided to give him an alternative."

Nock crossed his arms over his chest. "As I said before, he is Harry Potter."

Hermione slid across the stone flooring, moving through the room by rote and laid her hands on a charmed, decorative box. "Harry is nought but a man, Unspeakable Nock. He has his good points and he has his faults. I remember them well."

"True, Miss Granger, however, I must remind you that the impossible occurs around him."

Letting out a small, depreciative laugh, Hermione shook her head. "Improbable, Unspeakable Nock, not impossible. The answer to many events that occur within the magical world."

Her fingers trailed over the engraving on the box and then carefully lifted the lid. She withdrew a short, silver potions knife. As she had often done before, she admired the knife. Interesting that such a simple tool, one any child could purchase on Diagon Alley had wreaked such havoc.

When she had gone back to Shell Cottage to look for the knife, she had thought not to find it. But it had been, as if by magic, and here, Hermione snorted as she reminisced. She raised the little blade to the mirror light, and like it had on that cold autumn morning, the blade flashed with an unholy shine. She had found it on the ground, not far from where Dobby was still buried.

The blade glinted in the magic mirror glow again and the flash sent a shiver down her spine. It wasn't completely silver since the metal was too soft to be of anything but ornamental use, however, this particular knife had been forged with something other than just silver. Magic, maybe even the Dark Magic that had tainted her, kept the blade honed and blemish free even after all this time.

She laid the knife along her arm and slid it under one of the scales. With a turn of her wrist, the blade removed the flake. Her pale skin was blemish free for a moment then her blood dotted, welled up from the missing area, and smeared the surface of her skin. The colour changed, turning from bright red as the oxygen in the air hit it to a dull brown, and the scale reformed completing the cursed armour.

She offered her forearm to the mirror, showing the newly formed plate on her skin. It blended in with the other thickened, scales as if she hadn't just torn one away. "You see, Unspeakable Nock, no matter how much time has passed, no matter his intentions, Harry Potter will not find the cure to the curse because the matter is entirely too simple, and yet, extremely complicated as well."

"We shall see about that, Miss Granger. I have the utmost respect and faith in the ability of Harry Potter to see the matter to the finish."

Hermione laughed and tucked the blade away. "Perhaps you are correct. He always was the most stubborn wizard I ever had the fortune to know."


	7. Visions

**Chapter 7: Visions**

The scent of roasting beef woke Harry and he stretched his arms above his head, eyes still closed. Sharp pins dug into his legs and he cried out, eyes wide at the unexpected pain. Jumping up from his seat, he was rewarded with a ripping sound and a loud hiss. Harry looked down at Crookshanks and scowled at the cat. His expression changed to a grin once he got a good look at his companion. Crookshanks' orange fur was ruffled and his tail was bushy like a bottle brush, the glare on his feline face a worthy tribute to Snape.

"Sorry," Harry said and Crookshanks gave a full body shudder, settling his fur. The cat gave a muffed huff, turning away from Harry, hefted a leg in the air and proceeded to bathe his fur into submission. 

Harry chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. When he probed the area where the knot on his head had been, he was relieved that the pain was gone and the swelling had lessened. Uncertain how many hours had passed, Harry looked around the room, but there was no windows to indicate the time of day or even a clock to aid in the same matter. He drew his wand and ghostly smoke informed him it was almost half seven. His stomach growled in response to being woken and the empty state.

"Shall we see if Hermione is ready for us to join her yet?" Harry asked Crookshanks and rubbed his abdomen as the next bodily need made itself known. "And I need a bog."

Crookshanks considered Harry's statements and marched toward a door on the opposite side of the room that Harry had missed earlier. Harry followed but turned around when he heard fluttering. He watched as the books he'd requested rose into the air, shook slightly, and flew into a queue, preparing to return to their spots on the shelves.

"Can I take volume two of Hermione's notes with me?"

"As you wish."

Said book left the line of tomes awaiting reshelving and darted over to him. Harry tucked the book under his arm and ran to catch up to Crookshanks. The door led to a small Lobby that was empty except for a tourist plaque with details about the room. Another door stood open, another placard with the universal sign designating a restroom on the stone castle wall. 

Crookshanks waited for him and Harry hurried with his business, the scents of food stronger in the air. He exited and nearly ran past Crookshanks toward the kitchens. He sprinted through the Courtyard and into the kitchen, coming to a hard stop to watch the scene before him. 

Hermione stood in the centre of the kitchen a bored expression on her face. She didn't have a wand, but she directed the items in the kitchen like a conductor with nothing but her voice.

"Clean and put away dishes."

Bubbles boiled up in the sink and water splashed. The pots and pans flew through the air, leaving the sink to place themselves on a drainboard or in the cabinets.

"Prepare potatoes."

One pot moved to a hot burner on the range top, the lid propped up awaiting ingredients. Potatoes peeled themselves, then were flung into the sink where the faucet cleaned the dirt from the spuds. The lid on the large pot on the stove clapped shut then opened again as each potato thudded into the pot. Water streamed from the faucet into the pot and the flames under the burner flared when the pot lid closed for the last time.

"Roast."

The oven door lowered and Hermione glided forward to inspect the hank of meat. A long-handled fork drifted over to her and she carefully pricked the meat, checking the juices that flowed forth from the beef. She turned onions, carrots and what looked like parsnips to Harry and his stomach snarled in anticipation.

"I've still to make the pudding, but you can come out of the shadows and help if you wish," Hermione said as she closed the oven door, the meat on a platter floating beside her. The meat tray drifted over to the counter and a large silver dome lid covered the tray.

Harry stepped forward out of the hallway and into the kitchen proper. "How did you know I was there? Everything smells delicious, by the way."

Hermione touched her face then scowled, turning away from Harry to the sink. Water ran from the faucet and she scrubbed her hands with a small brush. "I had Unspeakable Nock adjust some of the spells on the castle after you left me."

Harry nodded, moving closer to her frowning when she slid away from him. "Do I make you that uncomfortable?"

With a sigh, Hermione turned and looked at him. "Look at me, Harry. I am a monster. The girl you used to know does not exist any longer. I am not even human."

Harry shook his head. "You are still Hermione and I want to help." He held up the book he'd been reading. "Tell me about the curse, please."

Hermione shook her head. "It isn't proper dinner conversation."

"We aren't eating at this moment in time."

Huffing, Hermione moved past him. "Timer."

A large, smoky display appeared over the meat, the cooking potatoes, and the oven in which the other vegs still roasted. She turned back to Harry before she slithered out the door. "If you've been reading that, then you know what I know."

Harry looked around the kitchen, watched the magic work for a moment, then hurried out after her. He spotted her tail as it vanished into the Courtyard, Crookshanks following close behind, and He hurried to catch up with the pair. She stopped at a row in the garden and bent, picking some wide petaled flowers in various shades of reds, yellows and oranges. He followed, observed her for several minutes trying to remember the name of the flowers.

"Chrysanthemums."

"How did you know?" Harry asked.

Hermine chuckled. "You had that confused male look on your face as if you should know something but couldn't recall it."

Harry laughed. "All right, I'll give you that one." He paused and moved closer to her, hoping she wouldn't run away from him again, but she scooted on ignoring his presence as she continued to pick her flowers.

Harry let Hermione have her peace as she puttered, content to find the girl he'd known in his youth through the magic that had transformed her. Though she had sworn, more than once, that the old her was gone Harry found his friend in the familiar movements and mannerism she exhibited.

Though her face was covered in the scales, Harry could see Hermione's unease with his inspection. He also sensed another emotion and wondered about that. "Do I make you uncomfortable?"

Hermione sighed. "No, not really. To be honest, I am making myself uncomfortable because _I_ don't want you to see me like this and yet…" she turned and faced him fully. "I _want_ you here. Now." She gave him a small smile. "For purely selfish reasons, I assure you."

Harry grinned. "I missed you, too," he murmured and reached out to tug one of her curls.

She gave him a rueful grin and sighed. "It was a difficult decision to make, Harry, and for the most part I don't regret it."

Harry nodded. "I won't say that I understand, because I don't, but I can imagine. You made the same sort of one when you sent your parents away during the war."

Hermione nodded. "Yes," she breathed. "You do understand then. I wasn't entirely certain you would, and in spite of everything you do." She smiled at him, and Harry saw his friend under the curse. He saw the girl that helped him save Sirius. He saw the young woman that stood by him even when he had made his mistakes in the bowels of the Ministry and on the battle-torn grounds of Hogwarts. The memories of the year on the run flooded through him as she watched him, her hazel eyes studying him. 

Harry stepped closer and took a deep breath when she tensed. "Don't move away from me, Hermione, please."

Hermione stiffened even more, but Harry slid even closer to her. He reached up and placed his palm on her shoulder. "I have missed you more than I knew, but I knew something was wrong, Hermione. I don't know how much you watched in your mirrors…"

He heard her gasp and smirked at her. "I'm not entirely as thick as you think, but we'll talk about that later. You and Ron were my first friends, and I will help you, Hermione. I promise."

She watched him as he spoke and slowly, Harry moved his hand across her shoulder to her face. He cupped her cheek and ran his thumb across the rough scales, catching the tear that slipped free. She closed her eyes and leaned her face into his palm.

Hermione reached for him and Harry wrapped his arms around her. He felt the tremors in her entire body, but he heard not one sound until she pulled away. He let her put space between them but kept his hands firmly holding her shoulders and met her damp gaze.

"All right," she breathed. "I'll let you help."


	8. My Heart Is Open

**Chapter Eight** My Heart is Open

"Let's eat, and I shall tell you about what isn't in the journals," Hermione said and led Harry back to the kitchen with her bundle of flowers.

Harry followed. "Tell me how you use magic inside the castle without the curse affecting you."

Though she had agreed to tell him about the curse, the words were harder to say than she had expected. Writing down her experiences had been cathartic and she had expressed her anger, her sorrow, and disappointment at the time in the journals. When she had closed the last one and felt the spells wrap around her the moment she had stepped into Godric's Castle, she had accepted her fate. She wouldn't admit to failure nor to giving up, but she had consented to her fate.

However, she was a witch, there was no changing that fact. She couldn't escape magic. Magic lived in her blood. She nor Bellatrix nor a bloody curse could change that. Each time she used magic, she felt the curse attack. Painful magic stripped her of her humanity a little more. Hermione had come to terms that she would never be cured of Bellatrix's revenge. Adjusting her views on this would take time and both she and Harry would just have to come to terms with that.

She looked over at him then glanced around the kitchen once more as the room set about finishing their dinner. She bit her lip as she thought about how to answer his question.

"I'm not actually using magic," Hermione began. "The castle and the items within are enchanted, therefore when I ask something of them, it does my bidding."

Harry grinned. "Is that why everything speaks with your voice?"

Hermione bowed her head. "I think that was Unspeakable Nock's idea of humour. I asked that I not be alone in my isolation and received Crookshanks and the enchanted castle in return."

Harry chuckled. "Interesting. Kingsley always said the Grey-robes had no sense of humour. I should like to meet him once this is over."

Hermione slithered into the kitchen, checking the timers. "Slice the roast. Drain and mash the potatoes. Wash the dishes." She looked over at Harry. "I'm certain you will come to know him well in your time here, Harry. Although I don't contact him often. He will check in to see if we have made progress."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

Hermione shook her head. "It has been quite some time since I had company." She smiled. "Also, I'm not really doing anything but directing. The castle does it all."

Harry watched the steaming potatoes move from the stove and the boiling water drain out of the pot in the sink. Butter and milk floated out of the cool cabinet. The gamey, thick scent of the roast beef wafted over to them and Harry's stomach snarled.

Hermione laughed. "Not much longer. Did you have more questions?"

"Many, but I am afraid I have lost them all in the wake of the scents."

Hermione nodded, then glanced around at the remaining tasks. "Just the gravy to make and the Yorkshire Pudding, and everything will be done." She huffed as the mums she had picked from the garden floated out of the room followed by a vase.

Dishes began to fly from the cupboards as the sliced roast and vegs plated themselves in pretty serving dishes before joining the parade of kitchenware exiting the room.

"Fifteen minutes until dinner." Hermione's voice echoed in the vast space of the kitchen.

Well, I guess we've been told." Hermione chuckled.

"Do you always allow the castle to order you around?" Harry asked as he watched the dinner move to a room off the side of the kitchen.

Linens sprang from an armoire, snapping out wrinkles and lying over a round table. Hermione's flowers and the serving dishes arranging themselves neatly over the pristine surface as the flatware sprang out of the drawers.

"No, however, since the castle is enchanted to respond to my moods I am glad to have company then the castle is as well. Come, let me distract you then while the kitchen finishes."

Leading Harry out of the kitchen, Hermione took him back to her room. In the darkness, she settled on the bed and lifted the silver mirror. The surface gleamed with silver light in the black of the room. 

Harry settled beside her and the bed dipped with his weight. His warmth blanketed her side and she resisted leaning against him even though she wanted to. It hit her that it had been a very long time since she had had company of any sort besides Crookshanks, especially company that could speak back to her, and she was extremely grateful for it. She fought back more tears at the realization of just how lonely she had been.

With a deep breath, she steadied herself and spoke, "Show me, Andromeda Tonks."

The mirror's face swirled in a spiral and then cleared, showing Andromeda sitting on the front porch of the Tonks House. She had a cup of tea and a blanket across her lap. A smile curled her lips and Harry leaned closer to Hermione to see the scene better.

Teddy ran up to her, wilted flowers clutched in his small fist. Andromeda leaned forward and took the bundle. She drew her wand and conjured a tiny vial. Water flowed into the new vase and then the flowers followed while Teddy looked on and clapped. He ran out of the mirror's viewing plane and Andromeda settled back in her chair, a satisfied expression on her face.

"That was amazing."

"Yes, I thought so, too."

Harry looked at the mirror again, only to find the surface dark.

"Doesn't last long, does it? Can you go back?"

"Not to that particular instant, no. And I was told not to dwell for too long. I just wanted you to see that they were well."

Harry turned away from the mirror and looked at her. Hermione swallowed as he stared at her. "What all did you see?"

"Many things."

"And?"

"And nothing," Hermione said. 

Harry took a deep breath and let it go slowly. "He's happy, you know, and Lavender is good for him, in spite of it all."

Hermione laughed. "I know. I don't think we would have been good for one another. But that isn't what you want to really say."

Harry shook his head. "Ginny is happy with Neville."

"She is. I saw that coming. Luna has too much wanderlust for him, and Ginny's spirit keeps Neville alive."

Harry was silent for a long moment, and Hermione let him gather his thoughts, waiting for him to say what he needed to say until the timers for dinner buzzed. She settled the mirror on the table and pushed herself up. "Take your time, Harry. I'll listen to whatever it is that you need to tell me, whenever it is you can say it."

Harry stood and nodded. "Let's eat."

Hermione smiled and reached for him then dropped her hand, but Harry stepped closer to her. "Do it," he whispered.

Swallowing hard, Hermione reached out and touched his face. She could feel the little hairs of his stubble on his cheeks, rough against her dry fingers. She trailed her hand down his face. "I know it's late, but I am sorry for leaving and for messing with your mind, Harry."

Harry caught her hand with his own, pressing it to his cheek. He closed his eyes, leaning his face into her palm. Breathing slowly, just resting his face in her palm, he nodded. "Thank you," he murmured.

Hermione continued to study him while he allowed her to touch his face. It was almost as if he knew she needed the contact. As if he too needed the physical connection, and she couldn't bring herself to let go, though, and just held his face for as long as he let her.

"We should eat before it gets cold," Hermione whispered.

Harry opened his eyes, the green dark with some emotion as he focused on her. "Yes," he agreed. "And you'll tell me more about the curse."

"One track mind," Hermione replied as she led Harry out of the room.

"It is the reason I'm here," Harry said, following her.


End file.
